


eyes are but a pain (roses in my veins)

by knifeplay



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Cheating, Drinking, Drunken Kissing, Extended Metaphors, M/M, Making Out, lapslock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 09:19:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17383865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knifeplay/pseuds/knifeplay
Summary: maybe it was because all the times mark had the chance to be this close, his tongue was down the younger's throat. but this time; losing himself in those brown orbs that send a flurry of mixed emotions, the way his pink, puffy lips quiver so slightly – with each passing second, it's getting harder for mark to keep his cool.





	eyes are but a pain (roses in my veins)

**Author's Note:**

> title from waste by brockhampton a whole bop!

sweet. 

 

he tastes so sweet.

 

like the perfect mix of alcohol and strawberries.

 

_ nothing like the words he spits out, though _ , mark thinks.

 

still, he keeps the space between them negligible, lips slotting perfectly against renjun's. 

 

their eyes always adjust so easily to the dark, mark can figure out every one of renjun's sensitive spots even through the dim light seeping in the bathroom.

 

mark would have chosen a better place to kiss the life out of renjun; probably his bed, or on his couch, or literally anywhere except donghyuck's bathroom, at 11 pm, at a boring party. 

 

still, he kisses renjun like there's no tomorrow; the grip on the younger's hips becoming more firm with every passing second. he drinks up the little pants and breathy whines renjun lets out from time to time, along with the sting in his head when renjun tugs at his hair just a bit harsher. 

 

in these fleeting moments, when neither of them can think straight, and are drunk off cheap whiskey and each other, mark takes in all that is renjun.

 

they pull apart, a thin string of spit still connecting the two; right before mark takes the chance to connect his lips to renjun's neck, alternating between kissing, nibbling and suckling.

 

his shocked gasp, the shaky breaths that follow after, the way he tenses up before becoming putty in the elder's hold — renjun is nothing less than art.

 

but when mark gently licks renjun's skin, covers the span of his collarbones in purples and blues, leaves fluttering kisses afterwards – is he defaming the masterpiece?

 

_ might as well splatter a bucket of paint on the mona lisa _ , mark thinks, if he was going to ruin,  to taint renjun's skin like that. 

 

that doesn't stop him.

 

renjun is his to mark, to ruin. when they're too gone to focus on anything but each other, renjun is mark's ruined masterpiece.

 

“more–” he hears renjun breathe out shakily, eyes rolling back at every one of mark's ministrations.

 

“hm?” mark mumbles against his skin; teasing, barely ghosting over his skin with his soft, swollen lips. “what do you want?” 

 

“don't fucking do that. shit, just–”

 

“ask nicely.” mark pulls away and his eyes meet renjun's, glazed over, angry and desperate.

 

he's never looked hotter.

 

“minhyung, i swear to god–”

 

“i could be doing what you want me to do if you just swallow your pride, sweetheart,” mark smirks, his face centimeters away from renjun's. he's so close to him, always was whenever they made out in whoever's bathroom, but mark didn't take the time to notice how renjun was ten times more captivating when he was this close.

 

maybe it was because all the times mark had the chance to be this close, his tongue was down the younger's throat. but this time; losing himself in those brown orbs that send a flurry of mixed emotions, the way his pink, puffy lips quiver so slightly – with each passing second, it's getting harder for mark to keep his cool.

 

“forget it, i'll just go to–” renjun's words have been getting interrupted by mark one too many times now, but this time, he lets it pass. just as the last syllable escapes his lips, mark grabs onto the younger's collar and draws him in impossibly close, attaching their lips in a pained frenzy, both of them moaning blissfully into the kiss.

 

“who?” mark growls, hands sliding from his collar to grip his waist tightly – he hopes there's bruises, despite the fabric covering renjun's lithe frame. “no, y-you, only you,” renjun slurs into mark's mouth, tongue going slack as he brings his hands up to mark's hair, gripping at his locks.

 

mark hums in acknowledgement, pulling at the hem of renjun's black shirt to reveal his pale, unblemished torso. the cold air hits renjun like a train, and he can't help but shiver and pull mark in closer. 

 

the elder traces his hand over renjun's chest, drinking in the way renjun whines and shakes like a delicate little leaf.  _ adorable _ , mark thinks, and takes the opportunity to paint renjun's skin all shades of blue and pink, starting from the base of his neck.

 

with every gentle nibble, suckle, fluttering kiss, renjun feels himself getting drunker and drunker off mark. he's convinced if they were to kiss long enough, he'd get tipsy just from mark's lips. and now, with the way he's so preoccupied with claiming renjun as his, marking him up and down in only places the two of them get to see, renjun feels the guilt prick at him, just as the ecstasy courses through him.

 

they're not supposed to be here.

 

they're not supposed to be anywhere near each other.

 

for renjun loves jaemin, just as the moon loves the earth – but even the little old moon indulges in the sun from time to time. when renjun and jaemin collide, it’s the waves the earth and its people get to witness: soft touches, young heartbeats, forehead kisses. it’s a collision of cold and colder – one would think it creates something even more extraordinary, untamed. but they only complete each other.

 

at least, that’s what jaemin’s been programmed to believe.

 

don't get him wrong, renjun loves jaemin with every fibre of his being. he's still so grateful for the day the younger came up to him and asked to be his boyfriend in the middle of a very serious conversation about aliens with donghyuck – he's grateful, and it's special to him.

 

and everything was well and good: every one of the small kisses they shared, every one of the little gifts jaemin bought for the elder, renjun savored it and kept it close to his heart. 

 

but all good things must come to an end. 

 

it's not that he was tired of jaemin, that wasn't the case. it's just, just – renjun wants, craves for more than what jaemin can give.

 

and somehow, in the midst of it, mark came along, and the moon and sun finally collided. it brought an eclipse; so intense, so captivating, so enrapturing, renjun finally felt what it was like to be complete. but their little eclipses hide behind bathroom doors with the lights off, too intense for anyone to see, the air getting warmer and warmer with each passing second.

 

renjun should regret it, should pay more heed to the burn in his chest whenever he faces a smiling jaemin, taking him in for a hug and resting his chin on the elder's forehead. he should regret it, eyes never meeting jaemin's when he has to mumble out “i love you too, nana.” he should regret it.

 

instead, he moans out loud when mark sucks little constellations on his neck. he doesn’t pay attention to the ache, never does. he can only focus on mark, mark, mark. 

 

renjun’s legs wrap around mark’s waist, pulling him in closer, begging for more through the simple action; and who is mark to deny what renjun asks? he moves from his neck to his shoulder blades, leaving ever so soft kisses with his soft, puffy lips.

 

“m-mark,” he whimpers, and mark hums against his skin, the vibrations causing a whole new set of goosebumps to trickle onto his skin. he knows what comes next. it always does. after all, solar eclipses last for only so long.

 

“we have, we have to –”

 

“a bit longer.”

 

“but –”

 

“a bit longer.”

 

renjun really can’t find it in him to argue, to say no, no matter how much he thinks they should be heading their own separate ways: renjun in jaemin’s arms, mark on the couch, getting high with a guy he doesn’t recognize. and so, he lets it pass: he melts further into mark’s touch, clumping up the latter’s shirt while he pays attention to his shoulder. it always comes, but he’s never done. never done defaming renjun, blemishing his canvas. painting it with colors that’ll make renjun smirk to himself when he takes off his shirt for a shower, or wince when he experimentally presses his finger into them.

 

“you good?” mark asks bitingly, smirk returning to his lips when he notices the way the younger’s shoulders are tensed up. “kiss me,” and it’s the desperation, the way his voice quivers, that makes mark realize: he’s only so much in control. at the end of the day, what renjun wants, renjun gets, even if he has to beg for it.

 

this time when their lips meet, it’s rough. the dull pain of the impact makes them both groan into the kiss, spit dribbling down renjun’s chin with mark practically running rounds in the younger’s mouth with his tongue.

 

he feels his chest tightening, this time with a different reason. yet, he doesn’t pull back. doesn’t try to get a breath of fresh air; it’s all or nothing. and mark is his all. and more.

 

but all good things must come to an end.

 

there’s a loud knock on the door, followed by a muffled “renjun? are you in there?” mark and renjun are forced to break apart, the overwhelming scent of alcohol and mark fading away as renjun opens his eyes abruptly, staring wide eyed at mark.

 

“renjun? are you there?” 

 

before renjun can answer, mark crashes their lips together one last time, this time biting down on renjun’s lower lip so hard he draws blood, and a muffled moan from him. there’s no craze to it, no lust driving it; simply mark pressing down hard enough that his lips look like the victim of a poorly aimed punch. they both can feel the warm liquid coating their lips, and mark only stops when their lips feel wet enough. when the elder pulls back and looks in renjun’s confused, glazed over eyes, it takes him all the willpower in the planet not dive back in, lick up all the pain he painted on renjun and taste every bit of him. instead, he yells out, “he’ll be out in a minute.”

 

renjun blinks back his confusion and lust, straightening himself out as he unwraps his legs from mark’s small waist while he clears his throat. it’s the inevitable part, and the most painful. the way renjun’s voice goes from whiny and high pitched to snarky and arrogant, eyes becoming narrow, rigid, cold. the first thing he says before he even gets off the bathroom counter is a snide “fuck you, minhyung.”

 

“you’re already doing that, sweetheart.” the elder winks before going to unlock the door and let soft yellow light flood into the dark room. when mark faces jaemin, he has to hold back a chuckle at the way his eyes show the same resentment as renjun’s.

 

“if you both hate each other as much as you say you do, why the fuck are you always around him?” jaemin muttered, fists clenching and unclenching as his eyes bore holes into mark. “maybe try asking that to your boyfriend. you think he’s so gentle, what do –”

 

“fuck off, mark. seriously, fuck off. leave,” renjun walks up to and pushes mark aside, only for jaemin’s expression to change from annoyance to concern, quickly cupping renjun’s face and assessing the cut on his lip.

 

“what happened? what did he–”

 

“it’s nothing. he’s a damn animal.”

 

“yeah, but look at you, it’s all swollen and red and–”

 

“then help me clean up. c’mon, let’s go.”

 

funny how they talk about the eldest as if he’s but a passing breeze, meaningless as soon as they’re both with each other. if only jaemin knew. if only the naive little earth knew what the sun and moon did behind closed doors. 

 

and just like that, they part ways: jaemin and renjun in the kitchen to get some ice, while mark saunters out the front door, a flood of emotions and intoxication filling him up, making it almost impossible to walk home. it doesn’t bother either of them. 

 

they’ll split apart. they’ll throw snide remarks and evil glares. they’ll meet at another party. they’ll get high or drunk, or both. they’ll find themselves entangled in each other soon enough: exchanging hushed cusses and whines while they gasp for air.

 

renjun’s and mark’s lips eventually meet, like magnets. like the sun and moon. once distant, but always connecting in the end.

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> kudos and comments are appreciated!!  
> 


End file.
